Harry Potter and the Celtic Sword
by ApparatingMaster
Summary: This is my story of what happens after the Final Battle at Hogwarts.
1. Prologue

Harry Potter woke from slumber in a panic. Drenched in sweat, breathing heavily and shaking, it took him a minute to realize where he was. He was in his bed at Grimmauld Place. Still gasping, Harry lay back down on the pillow. He gazed at the ceiling, panting, for almost a whole minute before he suddenly rolled over in bed, buried his head in his pillow and screamed in anguish and frustration. Why did a single person have to witness so much death in one lifetime?

Reluctantly, he listed them in his head, as he had done so many times before. The list of people close to him who he had lost had now gotten so, so long. And it all revolved around one person, his mortal enemy, now vanquished at long last, Lord Voldemort. It had been the way the prophecy was foretold. First, of course, had been his parents. Murdered by Voldemort in Godrick's Hollow, his father James had died bravely fighting and his mother, Lily had begged that Harry's life be spared and that her life be taken in exchange. His mother died to save him and in doing so, gave Harry greater protection than anyone might have imagined.

Next had been Cedric Diggory, in the Tri-Wizard Tournament 13 years later. He too had been murdered on Voldemort's orders. Harry blamed himself massively for what had happened. He and Cedric had tied winning the tournament and both had tried to be the valiant one and allow the other to have the glory. In the end Harry suggested that they take the cup together, and Cedric's fate was sealed.

After that, a year later, had been Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather. He had been murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange in the Ministry of Magic. Harry largely blamed Sirius' death on himself too, because it had been he who had been fooled by Voldemort's faked vision sent to his head. If he had only not gone to the Ministry in the first place, things might have been different. Harry punched his pillow angrily. How could he have been so stupid?!

Then yet another year later had been Albus Dumbledore. Again, Harry felt he had been at fault at least in part. He had been rendered completely immobile by Dumbledore right before the wonderful man had been murdered by Severus Snape. Though Harry now knew that Dumbledore's death had been part of the plan all along, he still hated the fact that it had happened.

Finally, in his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the year which he had not attended, Hedwig had died from a stray killing curse from a Deatheater when they were trying to escape Number 12, Privet Drive. Mad-Eye Moody was killed by a Deatheater as well on that fateful flight. Later was Dobby; by a cruel twist of fate, a knife thrown by Bellatrix Lestrange managed to embed itself in his body when he helped Harry escape from Malfoy Manor.

Then in the battle at Hogwarts…Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes with a hand as he hung his head, a wave of depression washing over him anew. It was too painful to comprehend anymore. They had all done it for him. Given their lives just for a 18 year old boy?

Harry sat there with his thoughts for a bit more before he put on his glasses and looked over at the clock. It was 5:30 am. Moodily, he threw some clothes on and quietly walked downstairs. He didn't think more sleep would be possible . Harry looked around disgustedly as he dismounted the staircase. He hadn't wanted to return here, but there wasn't really anywhere else for him to go. The house had been left to him by Sirius, and he vehemently refused to return to the Dursleys or be a burden on any of his friends. He had tried valiantly to make Number 12, Grimmauld Place look more inviting with the help of Ron and Hermione and it did look better. All the hideous Elf heads were now gone from the hallway, and the revolting portrait of Sirius' mother, stubborn as it had been, had finally been removed, thanks to some fancy wandwork done by none other than Hermione. It looked much more like a house now. Harry still didn't like being there, though. There were just too many memories. Everything in the place reminded Harry of someone who wasn't around anymore, and yet, he still found himself unable to imagine not living there.

Sighing, Harry listlessly stumped out to the front stairs to watch the sun rise above the still morning air. Voldemort was dead, yes. The war was over. Harry had fulfilled his destiny so far. So why then was he still having nightmares of all his deceased friends? As he sat down on the front step, a small tinge of light blue was just making its way into the murky midnight of the sky. He gave a small shiver as the cool twilight air whipped around his face in a small breeze.

"I guess I still need time," he murmured to himself sardonically. It had already been a little more than a month since he had last seen Hogwarts, and he still couldn't seem to pull himself out of his stupor. He supposed these things were still on his mind because of the slew of funerals he had been to since the battle.

The hardest one for Harry to attend was Fred Weasley's. It was very nearly unbearable for him, watching as Mrs. Weasley buried her head into Arthur Weasley's shoulder, unable to watch as the coffin bearing Fred was lowered into the ground. George stood stone-faced and dry-eyed, seemingly unable to accept it. Ginny stood on the other side with Hermione and Ron, sobbing quietly into a tissue.

Harry had wanted nothing more than to rush over to her and hold her close, but he hadn't been able to. He had never felt more guilty in all of his life.

And yet, despite all that, there was still an immense hope that Harry still felt every so often, most recently a week before when he had held his godson, Ted for the first time. Ted had reached out with a tiny hand towards Harry's face and Harry was hard put to keep his composure as Ted tried to grab his glasses. He was such a little bundle of life and Harry was glad that, though orphaned like himself, Ted would never have to live with people like the Dursleys. It was a good thing too, he thought as he grinned at an image that popped into his head of Petunia Dursley reacting to Ted's hair turning flaming green. Ted now lived with his grandmother Andromeda, though Harry made an effort to visit at least once a week. Harry looked into the sky again and found that the sun was almost up.

Just as the sun was in full view over the horizon Harry realized that his mouth was open in awe. He never really realized how easy it was to enjoy a sunrise when there wasn't an evil threat on your mind all the time. It was a wonderful splash of color across the sky. Reds, oranges, yellows, purples; they were all there. Harry suddenly felt rejuvenated such that he never had in his entire life. A sudden familiar musical song brought him down out of his reverie.

"That sounds like-... But... It can't be..." Harry thought.

He had not heard that song since... He looked around and sitting next to him was a beautiful red and gold plumaged bird.

"Fawkes!" Harry breathed softly. The phoenix acknowledged with a soft coo. Harry last saw Fawkes high in the sky at Dumbledore's funeral at the end of his sixth year, and after piping a truly mournful song Fawkes had disappeared. Harry had no idea why he would suddenly turn up now. Fawkes rested his head on Harry's shoulder, and Harry took this to be a sort of embrace. Harry ran his hand down Fawkes' neck a few times before speaking again.

"What are you doing here?"

Fawkes trumpeted his song again before holding out his clawed foot to Harry. He suddenly realized that Fawkes was clutching a large egg. It glittered with green, blue and purple with a hint of orange and gold. It seemed to be made out of polished stone. This was no ordinary egg. Harry could tell that right away.

He held out his hand and as he did so, Fawkes dropped the egg into it. He had just a moment to marvel at how light it was before the egg suddenly burst into flames in his hand. Harry gave a yell and instinctively tried to drop the egg to the ground but his hand wouldn't obey. Harry started to panic until he realized that the flames weren't really burning him. They were hot, sure, but they weren't unbearable.

Then, the flames died almost as fast as they had started. The egg was no longer there. A pile of ashes had replaced it. Then, something poked up out of the ashes and Harry recognized it as the head of a baby bird. A memory suddenly burst into Harry's head from his second year at Hogwarts. A very old and ugly Fawkes bursting into flame and dying only to be reborn immediately, equally as ugly looking. There had been no egg in that instance however. Harry stared down in wonder at the shriveled bird. It looked back at him and gave a soft tweet.

"Where did you find this?" Harry asked of Fawkes, but when there was no answer

Harry looked up again. Fawkes was no longer there. All that remained of him was a small trail of smoke rising into the sky. Intrigued, Harry slowly stood up so as not to startle the small creature in his hand. He had no idea what having a phoenix meant and he only had a small idea of what phoenixes could do. Just as puzzling was the existence of the egg in the first place. Was the bird he was holding Fawkes' offspring? He placed the ugly little bird on a soft pillow in a chair in the sitting room, where it promptly fell asleep. He then went to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. While eating breakfast, he decided to go and look in the library of the old house to see if he could find any books on phoenixes.

* * *

Later, as he entered the library his heart sank slightly. He suddenly doubted whether he would find anything to do with phoenixes in the library at Grimmauld Place. But it was worth a try anyway he supposed.

He had just finished sneezing after making piles of dusty books to look for information from when he heard a loud tapping, followed by a loud hoot at the library's lone window. Harry blew his nose and looked out. It was Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon. Harry gave a slight sigh and rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming next. He opened the window and Pigwidgeon, or just "Pig" for short, started zooming around the room at top speed. Not for nothing though was Harry once the youngest Seeker Hogwarts had seen in a century. Eventually he caught Pig and pulled the stack of letters off of his leg. Once finished Pig started shooting around the room again not unlike a Snitch.

The first one he could see carried the unmistakable handwriting of Minerva McGonagall. Harry remembered that she had taken over as Headmistress of Hogwarts after the final battle with Voldemort. There was also a letter written in a rather childish scrawl that Harry recognized as Hagrid, the Gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor at Hogwarts. In addition, there was a letter each from Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Resigned to reading the letters rather than continue sneezing his way through books, Harry sat down in the chair and broke the seal on the letter from Hogwarts.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is with great pleasure that I would like to invite you to return for your 7th and final year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of books and supplies you will need for the coming term. Also I would like to congratulate you on your re-instatement as the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain. Please note that the Hogwarts Express will be leaving King's Cross station promptly at 11:00 am from Platform 9 3/4 on September 1st. Please let us know whether you accept or decline this invitation by July 1st.

Sincerely yours,

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress

After he finished reading the letter, Harry leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, pondering. Hogwarts. In his misery he had forgotten that he never completed 7th year. He hadn't decided if he was actually up to attending it or not. Was it going to be worth being pointed at while people whispered behind their hands about him all over again? It didn't surprise Harry that he had been offered Quidditch Captain. Harry had managed the team during his 6th year, and had done well until he had been banned from the team by Delores Umbridge. Harry had nearly forgotten what it felt like to fly. He had barely used a broom in the previous year, as had most of the rest of students. Quidditch had not been played, due to Severus Snape being headmaster. He dearly missed flying and wanted to join the team again, but he had lost his Firebolt on the night he and his six "doppelgangers" tried to escape Privet Drive. He had not considered going back to look for it because he didn't have any idea where it landed, or if it had even survived. He also had not kept up with the current broom models, since his Firebolt had been a perfectly exceptional broom. He supposed he would have to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies and look at brooms. He didn't need to decide right away though, so he put the letter from Hogwarts to the side. He was still eager to read his other letters. Next was Hagrid's letter.

Hello Harry,

Just wanted to know how yer doing after the battle. By now I bet ya have yer letter from Hogwarts. I know you well, Harry, and I know yer thinkin' abou' not coming back. Now that you-know-who is gone, there's nothin' stoppin' ya from living the life you want. And it would be a lot easier for you to do that if you finish at Hogwarts. I really hope ya return, Harry.

Cheers, Hagrid.

Harry shook his head as he finished the letter. Hagrid had a point. He still very much wanted to become an Auror, and he couldn't really do that without the certificate from Hogwarts. He had a feeling it wouldn't be hard either, considering everything he had been through the previous year. Heaving a sigh, Harry went on to Ron's letter.

Dear Harry,

How have you been doing, mate? To be completely honest with you, things are pretty messy here right now. Mum's going crazy because of Fred. Actually, we all are, really. Don't you dare blame yourself for any of this though, Harry. Fred gave his life so that we could all live the lives we want to and he would probably force-feed you 50 skiving snack boxes if he knew you or anyone else was dwelling on this. You really should come and visit us again. We all miss you and would like to invite you for the rest of the summer if you want, like always. Hermione is already here so you should join us. Have you considered returning to Hogwarts this year? It's really the only sensible thing to do if we want to get good careers. Anyway Harry, I know you're probably all alone at Grimmauld Place and that just doesn't seem right with Voldemort (There I said it!) being gone.

Hope to see you soon, Ron

Harry gave a small sad smile as he read Ron's letter. It was nice that Ron was trying to make HIM feel better when Harry was positive that Ron was having a much more difficult time. Not only Ron, but all the Weasleys combined. Harry moved on to Hermione's letter.

Dear Harry,

I do hope you're doing alright. Things have been rather somber at the Burrow I'm afraid to say. You really should take Ron's invitation to heart. I think it would be good for everyone if you came to visit. And don't even think about not attending Hogwarts this year. Your career path is one of the most important decisions you will ever make and you won't be able to go far without graduating from Hogwarts. Ginny has missed you so much, Harry. I know it would put a smile back on her face if you were here.

Lots of love,

Hermione

Harry put the letters down and put his head in his hands. He hadn't been able to comfort or even really talk to Ginny at Fred's funeral and he had not had any further contact from her. He hadn't tried to contact her either, as he didn't want to add more to her plate. Apprehensively, he tore open Ginny's letter and read:

Dear Harry,

I know we didn't get as much time as we wanted before it all happened. I wanted to be angry at you. You left to go find Voldemort and I didn't know what to do. All I could do was keep fighting. There is so much more I want to say to you... Please stop blaming yourself in that big dusty house and come see us.

Ginny

Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as he finished the short note from Ginny. It sounded like Hermione was right. He didn't see much reason to stay here, there was no doubt that his mood would also improve if he stayed with the Weasleys.

Harry cleared a space off the library's lone desk and wrote a reply back to Ron saying that he would travel to The Burrow in 2 days time. The rest of the day was spent scouring the library for any information he could possibly find on phoenixes. The results were not uplifting, but he still had several more large piles of books that he hoped might contain something.

A/N: This is a complete reboot of my story of what happened after the Final Battle at Hogwarts. I have made the chapters a lot longer now and I hope that I can continue to write it without running into too many snags. My previous version sounded way too American, so I tried to make it sound more authentic this time around. Please leave a review if you liked it, or if you hated it. I want to become a better writer so anything is helpful!

P.S. The characters and concepts of Harry Potter and his friends are solely owned by J.K. Rowling. I am only borrowing them for a bit!


	2. Back to the Burrow

Harry sat down hard on top of his trunk to try to force it closed. He let out a muttered oath when it did not. But then he suddenly laughed. He supposed he were still a little muggle inside and had forgotten he could easily use magic to close the trunk, especially since he was no longer considered an under-age wizard.

Still chuckling to himself, Harry waved his wand at the contents of the trunk and said, "Reducio!" The contents now only took up about half of his trunk and it closed with ease. Harry then shrunk the trunk itself so that it was easily carried as a sort of briefcase. Harry grinned, proud of his idea. He took a quick look around his room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He still had the Elder Wand, though he had absolutely no desire to use it, since his old wand was perfectly satisfactory for him. His plan was to return it to Dumbledore's tomb when he got back to Hogwarts.

He then headed downstairs where he found the baby phoenix on the kitchen table, demolishing a large moth it had caught somewhere. The bird had grown considerably in only a couple days. It was now about the same size as Hedwig had been, and some of its colorful plumage was just beginning to come in. It wasn't red as Harry had originally thought it might be, but instead, it was the colors it's egg had been; Blue, green and purple. He had no idea what gender it was, and thus, had not named it yet. It was a wonderful companion however, and Harry's mood had changed considerably for the better with his new-found friend around. The phoenix would sometimes disappear randomly off of Harry's shoulder in a puff of smoke, but he only had to think of it, and it would pop back into existence again. It was also extremely affectionate, and Harry found himself growing extremely fond of it. Harry gave the kitchen one more glance and then waved his wand in the direction of the front door of the house, grinning again as he heard the many charmed locks on the door going into their locked positions.

"Well, I guess that's everything," he said aloud. The phoenix looked up at him, seemingly excited. It then glided over to Harry from the table and landed on his shoulder. After giving him an affectionate nip, it disappeared in a puff of green smoke. Grinning again, Harry grabbed his suitcase-trunk, and apparated to the Burrow. The familiar tug and sudden feeling that he was suffocating was brief, but it still left Harry completely breathless as he landed at the edge of the picket-line that marked the Weasley's property. He headed up the drive and, suddenly realizing he had never done this before, knocked hesitantly. No sooner had the door opened when he suddenly found himself getting a tight hug from Molly Weasley.

"Harry! Oh, dear Harry. Good to see you!"

Harry managed to drop the trunk to the ground before he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back just as tightly.

"It's good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley," Harry murmured. The hug seemed to last longer than it should have, but Harry didn't care. Too many stressful things had happened recently and Mrs. Weasley had become more of a mother to him with each passing year. When they finally broke the hug off, Harry could see tears in Mrs. Weasley's eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked with concern. Mrs. Weasley looked as if she had not been sleeping as well lately. Her eyes had a gaunt look about them and she seemed to be stooping a little more.

"Oh, rubbish! Don't mind me, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "I'm doing just fine." Harry knew from his own personal experience with this phrase that she probably wasn't but he didn't want to pry.

"Merlin, Harry, you look like you haven't eaten in a month! Sit down please, and I'll get you something."

Harry knew better than to argue. He sat down in the dining room and as he glanced around the room he saw something in his peripheral vision. It was the great Weasley grandfather clock. Four of the hands, being that of Molly, Ron, Ginny and Bill were pointing to the "At Home" position. The one that had Arthur Weasley's picture on it, which was smiling down at Harry winking, was pointing to "At Work". The same was true for George and Charlie. Harry knew the situation with the last hand and looked away. He was sure Fred's hand pointed to "Dead" and didn't need to see that. Mrs. Weasley bustled in and plopped down a large bacon sandwich in front of Harry.

"Oh god, Mrs. Weasley, this sandwich is wonderful!" exclaimed Harry, who wasn't much of a cook himself and hadn't really had the motivation to cook much of anything in the last week or so.

"Oh, I'm glad you like it. It's got my special sauce on it too."

Harry swallowed, and then asked, "Where are all the others?"

"Well, Ron should be de-gnoming the garden, Hermione is upstairs studying I believe, Ginny is probably out in the meadow, George is at the store, and Arthur is at the ministry of course."

"So is the store going to stay open then?"

"We aren't sure yet." Mrs. Weasley said with a small, sad smile.

"George is hoping that he might be able to keep the store running, but it's harder with just one person." Harry nodded in understanding.

Things were pretty quiet while he finished his sandwich. He then thanked Mrs. Weasley and headed outside where he saw Ron lounging on the garden bench pointing his wand menacingly at two gnomes who were peeking around a rock at the border, clearly intent on getting back in.

Just as they decided to make a break for it, Ron yelled "Flipendo!", knocking them back over the border where Harry knew they would be dizzy for a while.

"Good shot!" Harry said as he came up behind Ron.

"Thank yo-", Ron said before looking around quickly. "Harry!" Ron jumped up and gave Harry a huge bear hug before clapping him on the shoulder and grinning. "How've you been mate? I didn't know you had arrived!"

"I've been pretty good. Though, it's been hard to get over everything."

Ron nodded in agreement, muttering, "It's been hell here. I think things will be much better now that you're here though, for everyone."

"Yea, well hopefully Hogwarts will help too."

"You mean you're going?" Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Well I'm on the fence right now, but I don't think I really have a choice. You know I'd never hear the end of it from Hermione if I didn't."

"Excellent! I don't know what school would be like if it were just Hermione and I the entire year. I hope McGonagall gave the Quidditch Captain's badge back."

Harry laughed again. "Yes. I made Quidditch captain. And before you ask, yes, you're still going to be Keeper."

Ron punched the air enthusiastically. "Alright! I really can't wait now, I haven't ridden a broom in ages!"

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed. "I have to get a new broom too, maybe get a new Firebolt."

"What? No! The Firebolt went out of style a year ago. Come on! I have something to show you in the house. Also, I think Hermione is upstairs in her room. I know she will want to see you!"

Harry followed Ron back into the house and up the stairs. Ron knocked and when bid to enter did so.

"Oh hello Ron, how are you?" Harry saw Hermione get up off the bed where she had been reading and kiss Ron lightly on the lips.

"Hermione, Harry's here."

"What? Where?"

"I'm right here, silly," Harry said as he too entered the room. She gave him a huge hug.

"Oh Harry, I'm so glad you're here. Everyone's been moping about like someone's just died."

"Uh, Hermione-"

"Oh… Oops, sorry bad context. You know what I mean though. Oh, and Ginny will be ever so glad to see you. She keeps bringing you up in the oddest parts of conversations."

"Uh, right…" said Harry blankly. Then he seemed to focus again and said, "So you guys are doing well then? Still in love?"

"Oh come off it, Harry," Ron said as his face went red and Hermione giggled. Harry decided to let it go for the moment, but he was going to have fun with this throughout the year.

"So how have you been, Harry?" asked Hermione, suddenly putting on her serious and bossy face again.

"I'm-"

"And don't say your 'fine', Harry, we all know that's not true."

"Well… I have been a little better since your letters but, I will admit it's been hard. You guys really do know me too well, you know that?"

"Nonsense, that's what friends are for. We're here whenever you need us, Harry."

"But-" Harry tried to interject, but was interrupted by Ron.

"Bloody hell, Harry, no one blames you, in fact, the entire wizarding community should be thanking you on bended knee!"

"Please don't," advised Harry. The last thing he needed was to be treated like a king. Wanting to change the subject, he asked Ron, "What did you want to show me?"

"OH! Right! It's up in my room, come on!"

"Enjoy your 'Hottest Witch Monthly Report: Swimsuit edition'," Hermione called out after them. Ron stopped dead, his ears going red very quickly. "I wasn't going to... How do you..."

Hermione was hard put to keep a straight face. "I'm just kidding, Ron! Merlin, you should see your face!" Ron pointed a finger in Hermione's direction. "I'll get you for that!" Then he rolled his eyes at Harry and beckoned him out of the room.

Up in Ron's usual violent orange room, Harry found the latest copy of 'Quality Quidditch Supplies Annual Catalogue' being shoved into his face by Ron. He started skimming through the pages in great interest. "Wow, some of these models are incredible!" Harry marveled. "Never mind those, look at the pamphlet in the front!" Harry pulled out a large advertisement from the pages. It read:

SPITFIRE!

From the works of legendary Broom-maker Randolph Spudmore comes the new racing broom that may just leave your britches behind! Introducing the elegant and nimble Spitfire! Made from a newly discovered light-weight wood that is nearly as hard as dragon scales, the Spitfire is our quickest and most durable broom yet. Perfect for the Quidditch pitch, the Spitfire is even more streamlined and nimble than it's predecessor the Firebolt, and features new ground-breaking safety features and exceptional speed. Visit your local Broom dealer for more!

Harry whistled softly in wonder. The broom featured in the clipping was splendid, having a handle that was jet-black with faded gold pinstripes and one of the thinnest tails that Harry had ever seen. He felt a sudden familiar longing to start flying again.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Ron asked. Harry saw the same look in Ron's eye. "It's a bit unnecessary though, isn't it?" Harry mused, looking back at the Spitfire. "My Firebolt did just fine... And to be honest if I had this, I don't think anyone else would get a chance to win." Ron looked at him, aghast.

"Are you mad? That's the whole point!" Harry laughed as he turned his gaze out Ron's window, towards the meadow they had used to practise flying in past years. "Well, it's definitely worth taking a look at," Harry admitted. "We can go see it when we go to Diagon Alley." Ron looked ecstatic.

A/N: I know this chapter was much shorter, sorry for that! It was a good place to stop before Harry reunites with Ginny. Please review!

P.S. The characters and concepts of Harry Potter and his friends are solely owned by J.K. Rowling. I am only borrowing them for a bit!


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